Streaming

Essaouira, Morocco

I feel tired. I feel soft-hearted. I feel this need to go "do." It is nice to be social and active in the world, but it is important to calm back to myself. I feel an angst, a craving for action. Once I board the social train and start spending money, it takes a moment to pause in the discomfort of doing nothing. So, I am on the page, returning to myself with words. I am landing the plane. I am getting off the train. Music for focus plays in the background as I sip coffee and return to my insides. I am filling my own void while feeling grateful for the beautiful humans in my life.

Tired eyes. Gentle heart. Open. Hazy. Cloudy yet bright. I can be all the things. I am all the things. The Universe and all its components live within me. I am taking care of this container so it is strong enough to hold that weight. It is both outside and inside. The dance. The pause. The thoughts.

Multi-tasking is not my thing. I adore her. I get distracted. My mind does not know her, but my heart is invested in the unknown. She is the chaos I crave, the same chaos I am trying to move away from, the chaos I fear. Once you taste it, the residue is hard to get off your tongue and out of your mind. I crave it, but I choose to change course. That is my dating life. It is not boring; it is just different. Love can be spicy without destruction. I am redefining the narrative of my cells, transitioning from many parts into oneness.

It takes time to get here—twenty minutes, to be exact. I write, my fingers stop, my thoughts drop like pouring rain. I drown for a few moments, the clouds clear, and I return to the page. A letter, a word, a sentence. Baby steps. Poco a poco. Returning to myself, I feel satiated and burnt at once. I extended myself. It is usually all-or-nothing for me, but it doesn’t have to be. I am learning to maintain a semblance of balance. I have let my brain be flooded, allowing myself to be lost in a tsunami of thoughts. It is a human trait. When it becomes too much, I visit the cushion for twenty minutes—enough to connect my mind with my body and give the brain a rest.

I am activating my body so my brain can work more efficiently. It is a computer, and like any device, it needs to chill. Its capacity can be upgraded through exercise and nutrition. Writing is everything to me. It is one thing to activate energy, but you must channel it. For me, that means words and dancing, drawing and creating. It means making love. Exploring a woman’s body, pleasing her, satiating her so she can go into the world and share her whole Self. If I were forced to choose between the two, I might as well choose death. One cannot live without the other.

The feminine is unloved and "unfucked." Until we change that, the world will continue in chaos. The masculine is babied, which is why the "manosphere" is filled with whiny bitches. The masculine needs to be redefined and reconnected to its nature, which lives in the heart, not the brain. The power of the masculine is in the ocean that flows in his centre. Without it, he is disconnected from the Universe. The unhealthy masculine thinks power comes from control, but true power comes from freeing the feminine. Healthy masculinity is not acquired by caging the bird. To be disconnected from the Universe is to be disconnected from the power of the Creator. When the masculine is disconnected from that source, he becomes a force of destruction—a disease to all beings, including himself.

I have tiptoed my way back to calm and clarity.